Jessop excused himself from the boys at the table and went outside to relieve himself against a tree behind the building. It was twilight—that beautiful time when the sun has dipped behind mountains or sea, sending magnificent colors into the sky and clouds. While he enjoyed the grandeur of nature’s artistic performance, he heard footsteps walking down the path that led over the wooded bluff and out of sight. A brief moment caught his breath as he glanced up to see someone he recognized.
Trying not to make a sound around the branches and rocks that littered the area, he peeked out from behind a tree and saw the captain ambling up the path with a worn leather satchel slung over one of his shoulders.
Where is he going? Is this what the men were referring too? Was a private meeting about to happen that might possibly include George Washington? No. That was preposterous. The man had much too much to do without traveling to Diamond Island every couple of months to meet with the captain of a pirate ship. Though the captain had hinted at a secret he would divulge at a later time and he did speak with a British accent. So many questions darted through his head that he did not notice footsteps coming up behind him.
“What are you looking at?” William asked.
“Ho!” he said in a loud whisper. “You scared me?”
“I scared you? You’re scaring me with picking fights and spying on people. Have you lost your wits about you?” William said focusing his attention at relieving himself.
“No,” Jessop said, leaning against the tavern’s outside wall.
“Good, so tell me who you were spying on?”
“I wasn’t spying, I just heard footsteps and found it was the captain heading into the woods,” he answered.
“So the stories are true—he does venture off on secret meetings,” William said making his way over to Jessop.
“It would seem so,” Jessop said. Stepping backward and looking up the path where he’d seen the captain moments ago, he bumped into a woman carrying several large baskets. The collision sent the baskets into the air and crashing in a jumble of debris.
“Look where you’re going,” she said as she composed herself putting her hands on her hips and assessing the mess. “What do you think you were doing?”
“I wasn’t expecting anyone to be there,”
“Well, you were wrong, now, weren’t you,” she said as she squatted and opened one of the basket revealing a slimy goo of smashed eggs. “What a mess,” she added as she revealed the same contents in the other two basket.
“Look what you’ve done,” she said to Jessop as if scolding a pet.
“It was not my intention to…” Jessop bent to dump the contents of the basket into the weeds.
“Don’t….” she shrilled.
“What?” he said as the last of the eggs hit the dirt noticing a painted name on the side of the basket, “Patti’s Eggs.”
“There could have been some good ones in there. Don’t touch another thing,” she roared.
“My very purpose is only to assist you.”
“You’ve assisted enough for one day,” she said bluntly as she felt through the slime for unbroken eggs in the other two baskets, then added the muck to the pile Jessop had started. She had saved maybe four eggs out of three baskets wrapped them in a handkerchief she had pulled out of an apron pocket and gathered up her baskets.
“Please, let me help,” Jessop insisted, practically yanking the baskets out of her hands all the while William was at the corner of the building smiling and laughing at the spectacle before him.
“To what end?” she said yanking them back and breaking the handle of one. “Perfect” was her response. She grabbed the remnants and hobbled to the path she was on, favoring one leg greatly.
“You’ve hurt yourself,” Jessop urged.
“I did not hurt myself. YOU twisted my ankle, and the last thing I want or need is your aid.”
“Come now, let me take some of the weight off your ankle,” he said grabbing her arm and putting it over his neck as he tried to act as a crutch.
She was having none of that and swatted at him, pushing him away only for her to trip over a stone and fall hard on her rump. She sat for a moment as if gauging what to do next, then with red-splotched cheeks looked at Jessop. He started to chuckle. It wasn’t his intention but the whole incident was so ridiculously comical that he couldn’t help himself.
He didn’t look to William because he heard him chortling at the spectacle already. She leaned back a bit resting her weight on her arms. “You find this humorous?” she asked, eyes narrowed.
Jessop tensed his lips in an attempt to conceal the smile that had been there as he extended his hand to help her up. She slapped it away. “I don’t want your help.” She stumbled to her feet, brushed her skirts off, and gathered her baskets noticing another handle casualty. Her auburn hair was disheveled, and long strands had come unbound from the neat bun she once had at the back of her head.
“Please, you’re hurt, let me see you safely home,” Jessop said again offering to support her as she walked.
With raised eyebrows and a stern face, she pointed a finger at him as she wobbled from the pain in her ankle. “YOU are not touching me. Not now. Not ever!”
Annoyed by her stubbornness, Jessop offered, “Agreed. I won’t touch you, but my friend here can help you while I carry your wares.”
“Wares, as if I have anything left,” she said under her breath and then looked to William with a suspicious eyeing.
“How did I get pulled into this?” William said, trying to keep his laughter in control.
She returned Jessop’s gaze and with a dissatisfied huff, she said, “Fine, but he has to carry me piggyback. I don’t want his hands around my waist.”
“Agreed,” Jessop said, waving William to them.
A flustered surprised look shown on William’s face and for a moment he couldn’t get any words out. “I don’t see how it’s my back that has to pay for your mishap,” he said, bending over for her to jump on his back.
“Hmph,” exploded from William’s mouth as he looked at Jessop for sympathy. He met with only a smirk.
* * *
As they walked along the path, only the nature around them and the stomping of their footsteps disturbed the quiet. The sky was muddled with fluffy gray clouds that meandered inland from sea. No one dared say a word for a long while. The trees became less dense as they emerged into a wide green meadow with a dilapidated barn set in the middle. It had long been abandoned, but its roof and walls remained in fairly good condition.
A drop of rain fell upon Jessop’s nose, then another. A white streak zipped across the darkening sky and a large boom of thunder followed. The sprinkles of rain grew into a pouring of water and Jessop pointed to the barn to take refuge therein.
“We are not spending the night in that rickety old barn,” the woman said.
“It’s the only thing we can do. The lightning will surely strike us out in the open and the chances of us slipping and injuring ourselves will steepen if we trek on in this weather,” Jessop said.
“No,” she argued wiggling out of William’s grasp and off his back. She was soaked to the skin as were they all as she limped along the muddy path. William made a run for the barn now that he was free of his load. Jessop stood watching the woman trying to walk with her heavy, wet skirt material accumulating weight from the mud that attached itself to her hem with every step. She was a stubborn mule of a girl, but he wasn’t going to have her death on his conscience.
“I’m going to regret this,” he said to himself, then ran passed her, and turned, blocking the way. With the advantage of surprise, he lunged toward her and threw her over his shoulder. She kicked and screamed and wiggled. She pounded on his back. “Put me down this instant!”
“I will not. This is for your own good,” he declared defiantly and smiled a bit that he finally had the upper hand in this situation. After much complaining and jostling, she realized there was no getting loose and gave up the fight.
Another flash of lightning and the crack of thunder at the same time, told Jessop he better pick up the pace. The lightning was close and two figures in an open field was not a great place to be. The barn may be a beacon in the lightning storm but at least it was protection from the rain, and the huge oak next to it was a more likely target for the bolts.
Whatever happened, the barn was where they were headed and he wasn’t looking forward to the tongue lashing he knew was coming. But she wasn’t exactly the most amiable woman he ever met. He was sure if he had just scooped her into his arms, she would have beaten him over the head with her baskets. At least this way he wouldn’t get hurt too badly.
Jessop crashed through the barn door, out of breath and drenched, then released his unwitting passenger to the ground. She shoved him away and took several large steps back with an indignant look.
“How dare you throw me over your shoulder like a…a…sack of potatoes.”
“If you would have come on your own recognizance, I wouldn’t have had to resort to such uncomfortable means.”
William sat watching the two pace in agitation, glaring at one another, throwing intermittent insolent banter at their opponent. He laughed to himself as he proceeded to start a fire with his flint and steel with hay and broken wood furniture.
Once the flames took off and light showed the smile on his face, Jessop asked, “What pray tell, do you find so amusing, William?” This question directed the woman’s attention from Jessop. For the moment, both looked upon Will with discontent.
“It’s nothing, really. I just think you two are quite the pair.”
“A pair?” she said appalled at William’s distinguishing them as a couple.
“I don’t like what you’re insinuating—a pair as in a couple? Hardly,” he said and she agreed with a nod of her head.
“Look at her, she’s most unagreeable, stubborn, annoying, and insensible,” Jessop said.
“Insensible? You’re accusing me of being crazy?”
“No, well, maybe…Yes. I am. You don’t have good enough sense to come out of the rain in a lightning storm without being forced to do so. I find that impractical and irresponsible.”
“Oh, do you? Someone who can’t take a step without bumping into someone or knocking them over so as to injure themselves is not very sensible, either. And as for you, I find you to be mule-headed, inept, insufferable and insensitive,” she said with a nod at the end of her statement as if physically punctuating it.
Jessop couldn’t believe the words that came out of this woman’s mouth. “Insensitive? I offered my help time and time again. I apologized profusely and when you didn’t abide with common sense, I asserted myself to gallantly save you from yourself.”
“OOOOoooohhhhhh!” she roared in vexation. “So you see yourself as some white knight coming to save the weak, dimwitted, woman who couldn’t survive without his help, do you?”
“Well, yes. I do.”
She shook her head in disbelief and let out a screech of frustration as she stomped to a hay bail and sat with a hmph. Her hand came up with a pointed finger and her mouth opened to say something when William said, “Now, children, let’s play nice!” Both of them turned and glared at his comment.
“I’d dare say we’re stuck here for a few hours, if not the evening, so maybe we could just keep the derogatory comments to ourselves and make the best of this situation. It might be a long night and I wouldn’t mind getting some sleep,” William said.
Jessop crossed his arms indignantly at his suggestion and said, “I can do that, but I’m not so sure our guest can be so obliging.”
The woman opened her mouth to say something both William and Jessop knew would not be nice, when William said, “And Miss Patti, is it?” She nodded. “Can you manage to keep your exasperations under control for the night?”
Her mouth opened again as if to say something, but must have thought better of it and replied calmly, “Most assuredly.” Then she smiled at William and then presented Jessop with a horrible forced smile to seal the deal.
“Good,” William said, pleased with himself.
“I saw an old horse blanket by the door. I’m sure it’s dusty and smelly but it should be warm. It might keep your teeth from chattering any louder than they already are,” William said and pointed to a peg by the entrance.
Jessop could see she was biting her tongue at William’s comment, but she rose and progressed to the blanket, shook it out and coughed a bit from inhaling the debris it forced into the air. She threw it around her like a shawl and cringed at the smell when she pulled it tightly around her neck. She went back to the bale and with great effort, started dragging it closer to the fire.
Jessop jumped to her rescue as if he had no free will and attempted to help her. “Let me help,” he said. She put her hand up to tell him to go away, then glanced at William watching and she instead said behind gritted teeth, “Fine. Thank you!”
He knew her statement was not what she really wanted to say, but let it go and rounded the bale pushing it toward the fire. He slipped once on a large clump of strewn hay but tried to play it off as if it hadn’t happened. One glance at Patti revealed it had not gone unnoticed, possibly furthering her opinion of his lack of coordination.
He tried to ignore the fiendish yet pleasant smile that adorned her lips. When he felt it was close enough, he bowed as if to let her know he had served his duty. She sat delicately on the hay and spread out her soaked skirt under the blanket so it would dry from the heat of the fire.
William and Jessop carried a few more bales for them to sit on and William found an abandoned coat for a man three sizes wider than he and far smellier than the horse blanket. William offered it to Patti, but she could smell it from a distance and said she was fine with what she had.
Jessop too found something to cover himself from the cold, though it provided many laughs and sniggers from Patti and William—a woman’s pink petticoat with as many stains as it had ruffles. He pulled the wider end of the skirt around his shoulders for warmth framing his face with pink lace and ribbon. He was not happy, but the rain did not seem to be letting up so he tolerated with snide remarks from William and smirks from Patti.
After a few hours, Patti laid on her bale encased in her smelly blanket and closed her eyes. Her hair was drying and the stray strands that lay on her face and shoulders seemed to curl like copper springs as they dried. Jessop thought she was quite attractive when her mouth wasn’t open yelling uncivil remarks at him. He found himself staring at her as she lay relaxed and content in her dreams.
“She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
Jessop had been studying her unusually long eyelashes and how perfectly symmetrical her eyes were when William startled him with his question. “What? Her?” He scrunched his face and turned his head from side to side as if that made her look better and continued, “I guess some might find her appealing.”
“And you? How do you find her?”
“Me? I find her, well, boorish and rude…”
William cut him off and said, “Not her actions, those are brought about by conditions and environment. No, I mean what do you think of HER?”
Jessop pushed out his lips as if it helped him think and then rubbed the shadow of a beard on his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I suppose she’s moderately attractive, her smooth skin makes her younger, probably just of the age to be engaged. But I personally would never be able to get past her grating disposition.”
“Oh. I see. And that’s why you’ve been staring at her for the better part of an hour?”
“I have not.”
William raised his eyebrows in question and then said, “But you have.”
Jessop was flustered and appalled at what William was hinting. He hadn’t been staring at her—taking in every little quiet movement of her expression or the quiver of her lips while she dreamed. Or had he? He shook his head as if to shake off some spell put on him.
William smiled as he leaned against the bale warming his feet on the fire and throwing random things into its flames.
“You don’t think…”
“I don’t think anything, I was merely pointing out the obvious.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You’ve been tripping all over yourself since you ran into this woman. I’ve never seen you so, how shall I say it, not you. You are the most agile and nimble swordsman, yet when you are around her you have two left feet.”
“Just because I’m having a bad day doesn’t mean I’m enamored.”
“And then there’s the fact you two bicker like an old married couple.”
“And that’s a good thing?”
“Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘the line between love and hate is a very fine line indeed’?”
“Of course, but this, this is not love…hate…anything near this invisible and infuriating line you speak of.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Jess,” he said chortling.
“Absurd…preposterous…love…it’s laughable, really…ha, I say,” Jessop said under his breath as he beat his bale with his fist and turned away from the fire and HER to sleep.
* * *
When William and Jessop roused from their slumber to the smell of smoky ash and William’s rank jacket, they found they had been deserted by their injured guest.
“Guess she doesn’t like long goodbyes,” William teased.
Jessop snorted and returned, “Good riddance, I say. I was only doing what any gentleman would do in the situation.”
“Maybe,” William said as he ran his hands through his hair, withdrawing pieces of straw with a long yawn and stretch. “Though I don’t think many ‘gentlemen’ would have thrown her over their shoulder like some sort of wench. Maybe you’re really turning into a bona fide pirate.”
They exited the barn. “You’re not taking that jacket, are you?” Jessop said, noting William still had the overcoat on.
“Why? You don’t think it suits me?”
“The smell or style? Both are atrocious. First it smells like something crawled inside and died in it, and the other point being it’s at the very least three sizes too big for you.”
William inhaled deeply with the coat collar at his nose. “Really? I don’t smell a thing.”
“That’s because the stench has eaten away at your sense of smell and rendered it useless.”
“I kind of like it, though,” he said admiring it. “It could be the basis of my pirate name—Stinky Coat. Or maybe…”
“You really want to be known for the rest of your life as ‘Stinky’ or some other name noting that you reek?”
He stood in the path for a moment to ponder such a thing as if considering it. “I guess not,” he said finally taking the wretched thing off and laying it on a boulder nearby. He ran to catch up with Jessop who had started up the path towards the woods and the port.
“Whew! You still stink, I think you’re going to have to take another bath or they’re going to call you Stinky without the coat.”
“Really?” he said, smelling his clothes.
“Yes. Really.”
“Do you supposed they’ll give us our money back since we didn’t actually sleep in the hotel?”
“I doubt it. We’re dealing with a bunch of pirates—you really think they’re going to find it in their hearts to give us back our fair share?”
“Maybe.”
“Very unlikely.”
“Do you suppose we’ll ever see Miss Patti again?”
“It’s doubtful.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“What?”
“Not seeing her again.”
“Why would that bother me?”
“What if she’s the one?”
“The one what?”
“The one you’re meant to be with?”
“You really do have quite the imagination.”
“Thank you.”
“That’s not a compliment.”
“It’s all in how you look at it.”
“Is it?”
“It is. For instance…”
“Somehow I knew there would be a ‘for instance.’”
“For instance,” William repeated in annoyance of the interruption, “if someone had said to me a year ago, ‘William, you’re going to make a fine pirate someday,’ I’d have laughed heartily at the idea.”
Jessop raised his eyebrows in contemplation and agreement. “Truer words were never spoken. You have turned out to be very good in combat and you’ve taken up with woodworking like no one’s business.”
“Exactly.”
“But how does that make you a great pirate?”
“Not sure.”
“I think the fumes from that jacket have jumbled your brains.”
“Naw. Think they’ve been jumbled for a while. But seriously now, how do you like being a pirate?”
“I think sometimes I have an aptitude for it, but then we go into battle and that’s when I’m not sure anymore.”
“Yah. I could do without the killing, too. Oh and the near death situations, but all in all I find myself not missing home much. I feel a little guilty about that from time to time—especially when I think of Lily and what’s become of her and the farm without me there to work it.”
“I can imagine that would gnaw at one’s insides.”
“It does. What about you? Do you worry about what’s become of your family?”
“I must admit I do enjoy the life of a sailor—much more than I ever thought I would, but my family, well, I’m guessing with me out of the picture, Penelope has most likely stepped in as the mistress of the house at my father’s side, which, I might add, is what they both wanted in the end anyway.
“They are much more suited for one another than our pairing. I would have never been very happy as an aristocrat and she would have never been happy with a laborer. As for my father, he’ll survive and be the happier for it. I never really fit in to his mold of what he expected me to become.”
“If you had the choice, would you go back?”
“That’s a hard question. The right thing to do would be to answer yes, but part of me thinks it would be better for all parties involved if they think I’m dead. In a sense, that man they knew is dead. I could never go back to living the way it was.”
“You wouldn’t go back to live in the lap of luxury and all that money.”
“Money isn’t everything, William. To me, that money is my father’s.”
“Money is money. It doesn’t matter where it came from.”
“It’s does to me. I’d love to be as successful as my father, but I needn’t be to be happy. When the time comes to settle down and have a family, I’d like to know I can provide for them, and that it’s due to my efforts they have the things they do. Though my father has been successful and invested wisely, most of the family money was not his doing.”
“What about you?”
“If I knew Lily was happy and cared for, I’d stay—at least for a while. I don’t think I want to be a pirate when I’m old, though. I’d retire somewhere warm and finish out my years. I do like the idea that I can be helping the patriot cause by providing them with supplies.”
“I’m quite fond of that aspect myself, despite what my father might think.”
They both chuckled a bit.
“Well, regardless of what you think, I have the sneaking suspicion, we’ve not seen the last of Miss Patti.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
“If that happens, and I’m not condoning your idea, please make sure I don’t shoot myself in the foot if that happens, or hers for that matter.”
“Can’t guarantee it, but I’ll do my best.”
Jessop gave him a friendly shove as they laughed.